


The Definition of Insanity

by MercuryMapleKey



Category: Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Codependency, Drabble, M/M, writing challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 07:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10715319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryMapleKey/pseuds/MercuryMapleKey
Summary: They'll play this game forever, back and forth as each one rips the other apart and feeds on their suffering -- of that Rampage is certain.





	The Definition of Insanity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ribbonelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbonelle/gifts).



> Hmmaaaa, okay, this was my first time writing these two together, and if you know anything about me, you should know Rampage and Depth Charge completely overwhelm me, they're like one of my favourite ships ever because they're just SO INCREDIBLY MESSED UP. And so writing this was like opening a floodgates okay? Writing this was revolutionary for me, they're all I ever want to write for the rest of my life. They're fucking beautiful.
> 
> But anyways, for now I have this. The prompt for this one was "Things you said under the stars and in the grass" there's at least one other prompt i wanna do for them too. But Ribonelle requested this one.

It’s night-time when they finally find each other. Together again on their new home of dirt and trees and so much water. And it hasn’t been long, not since they clashed last – in the heat of day, the roar of battle, deaf to the inane chorus of maximals and predacons around them – but it’s been so long since it felt like this. It’s been so long since he’s had the chance to fully taste Depth Charge. Locked in stasis and thrown aboard the Axalon as cargo stellar cycles ago… he’s got a lot of catching up to do.

These cycles Rampage doesn’t need to lay out bait to further their little game, the signature of his spark is more than enough to get his old friend running. Hot with an old, hardened fury as he swoops in firing a barrage from his aerial form. It isn’t enough however and soon they find themselves at the end of each other’s blasters; still not close enough.

“Ah, there you are old playmate. So nice of you to finally decide to join me.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, X.” Depth Charge is feeling righteous and determined tonight, and even from this distance Rampage can feel the cold hatred that blossoms from his spark as he spits his old name like a curse. He’s always been so emotionally charged – his anger, his pain so much more palatable than that of any standard mechanisms. Depth Charge is delicious: so often willing, and more preferably struggling and screaming against him.

Terror is a hard emotion to pull from the maximal these days, but pain… pain he has in spades and Rampage knows just how to draw it from him.

“A shame I couldn’t invite anyone else along this time.” Depth Charge is on the defensive, this time, with his large fins the only thing protecting him from the onslaught of blaster fire. They don’t protect him from much else. “But I seem to recall all _your_ friends going missing!”

Old wounds are easy to rip open again, especially when Rampage put them there himself. He can taste the rawness as it tears itself from Depth Charge, the tumult of anger, the pain as it erupts out of the circuitry of his own shoulder. Depth Charge says nothing worth hearing, but shoots him again out of impulse – an urge he doesn’t try to control.

Rampage hits the ground on his back, shouting and groaning both as his weapon is kicked from his servo. Pain. But Rampage is far too accustomed to pain not to recognize the value of it. He relishes it.

He’s hauled from the ground in a rough motion, but catches the fist as it’s thrown at him, squeezing the knuckles hard enough to dent. Angry, accusatory.

“You haven’t made any new friends since I’ve been away, have you?”

Depth Charge’s optics have always been beautiful, not quite as expressive as his spark as they widen and shift to focus on Rampage alone. As if – for the split fraction of a nanoklik – he’s truly considering the answer. This is the connection they have. In part. Rampage knows that Depth Charge is always listening to him.

The notion is enough to bring a giddy cackle out of Rampage’s vocaliser. “Hmm, I wonder if they’ll taste as good as the last ones.”

Pain, as the words hit their intended target. Pain, as Rampage twists his foes arm against itself wrenching a shout from Depth Charge before tackling him in full. And outrage too, brewing like a volatile liquid. This is the way they always end up, grappling under the starlight with the intent to kill, or _feed_ , or beat each other until their sparks finally flicker out in unison. Rampage wouldn’t have wished to be anywhere else. Depth Charge is perfect for him; there’s simply no one else that plays along with his games so well.

He loses the upper hand again. Depth Charge throws him to the ground in a rough motion and pins him down, his retrieved blaster points firmly at Rampage’s chest. His friend is a cocktail of emotion; fury, hatred, retribution, despair, and somewhere beneath it all the hollow confirmation that he is very much alone. There is no one left. No one else for him to terrorize anymore, but Rampage is long past the days of live bait.

Depth Charge grabs Rampage’s arm in a crushing grip, it’s his lifeline as he snarls into his rival’s faceplates. “Never again.” He really means it, vehemence overriding everything else. “You’ll never get the chance with anyone again, you creep! I’ll send you back to the Pit you spawned from!”

It has to be love, because there’s no possible way Depth Charge could live otherwise. Not without him to hold into. He’s got no one else, nothing else, they’re the last two remnants of Colony Omicron. Rampage knows it because he’s the one who killed them all. Depth Charge knows it because he doesn’t pull the trigger.

“Oh, Fins,” Rampage is smug now, he can hardly help it with Depth Charge seething above him, completely succumb to his anger. He can become such a monster when he puts his mind to it. “Everyone else was hardly a substitute for _you_. How many bodies did it take before you realized that?” 

“Shut up!”

Depth Charge hits him instead. Again and again with the brunt of his blaster until Rampage has to pull a servo in front of his face to protect himself, cackling in full and choking on energon as it drips down this throat. It’s painful, naturally, but Depth Charge too has always been swarmed by pain – intense and unyielding. He’s sure anyone else would have dried up by now.

Rampage is a monster born of the same substance; he knows pain better than he knows his own spark. He finds something sharp on the ground beside them, a piece of kibble off his own armour, and slashes Depth Charge across the face, catching him in the optic with it.

They break apart bloodied, with Rampage bellowing his rage and Depth Charge’s optic stuttering sparks. But it’s not over for them; just like the first time. They’ll tear each other apart for a taste of that release, their blissful first encounter, the pain and terror. Ad infinitum.

Nothing has ever been as good.


End file.
